into the abyss.

[Gabriel de le Poer]

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Wind currents kept the air in the abandoned subway moving still, and the depth of the ground lowered the temperature so even in late fall he could see his breath, had there been light to do it. Instead, the cigarette drew lines in the darkness with each movement, giving off not quite enough light to cause twin pinpricks to catch in his eyes. There was no devil in Gabriel, as there had been in his mother, but there was darkness comparable to that of his father’s. The Lord was not just merciful—he would punish the wicked, and bring his wrath upon them.

One ear twitched at the noise, his muzzle pulling back just slightly at the tone. It was condescending, vicious, and seemed suitable for the boy who had once nearly cried when Gabriel denied his vision justice. “Knock it off,” he said with a snap, shifting his weight in the dark. “Don’t put on an act.”

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